THAT NORTHERN section of the state of Washington, as far as the ranch land was concerned, encroached upon wild country, the margin of civilization, the rolling sage plains, blue as the sky, which terminated in a mountain called Horse Heaven Hill.

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How serene and lonely, how unspoiled this land! The mountain range bulged out of the desert, purple where the foothills heaved off the level, then streaked with red and grey, then a winding zigzag black, and at last the pure white of the peaks set against the blue.